BoyCat's first night home
BoyCat had a restless night, and consequently, so did I. He just couldn't seem to get comfortable. But fortunately, he wasn't having any problems breathing.
He's on three meds which the vet cautioned me must be given on a strict schedule: Lasix every eight hours for three days, then down to every 12 hours; Vetmedin every 12 hours; and Enalapril every 24 hours. Lasix is a diuretic to get rid of the fluid in his lungs; the other two help his heart function.
This means I got up in the middle of the night and then early in the morning to give pills and will be doing so again and again until I gradually switch the pill times to more convenient hours. I was told not to move the times up or back by more than 30 to 60 minutes per dose.
His appetite is extremely good; he's eating everything I give him and looking around for more. I forgot to bring back some turkey from my sister's for the cats tonight; fortunately, there's plenty for me to bring back tomorrow. He's a bit subdued, in terms of his behavior, but he's gradually acting more like himself. When I got out of the shower today, he was sitting on the bathmat waiting for me as he usually does.
I'm thankful that I'm getting to spend more time with him than I thought I would when I was sitting in the emergency clinic waiting room Monday evening. I'm also thankful that I have supportive online (and offline) friends.
I am NOT thankful, however, for dog owners who don't leash their dogs. When my sister and I were walking her two dogs tonight, a couple visiting one of her neighbors let their dog out of their car as we were walking by. Their dog--looked like a smallish rottweiler or doberman mix--ran right up to my sister's golden retriever mix, sniffed her, and then started attacking her while she rolled over on her back and exposed her belly to signal she wasn't a threat. As I'm screaming at the dog and trying to pull my sister's dog away, and my sister is smacking the dog with the leash attached to her little bichon frise (who wouldn't have stood a chance against the attacking dog), the attacking dog's owners are--what else--standing by their car yelling for their dog. The woman eventually came over to pull her dog off and apologized; it took another few minutes for her husband to wander over and actually take the dog away. Meanwhile, the golden mix is whimpering and afraid to get up. She turned out to have only one small bite that broke skin, so I guess attack dog was posturing more than anything.
But why the hell do people not put their dogs on leashes? I've seen people stand by their cars with leashes in their hands yelling fruitlessly at their dogs to "come here, stop that." You know, your dog wouldn't be able to go there and do that if you'd PUT THE DAMN LEASH ON. And if you can't be bothered to put the leash on, then you'd sure as hell better run over to your dog and haul it off of the dog it's attacking or scaring the crap out of instead of standing by your car or house yelling at it.
He's on three meds which the vet cautioned me must be given on a strict schedule: Lasix every eight hours for three days, then down to every 12 hours; Vetmedin every 12 hours; and Enalapril every 24 hours. Lasix is a diuretic to get rid of the fluid in his lungs; the other two help his heart function.
This means I got up in the middle of the night and then early in the morning to give pills and will be doing so again and again until I gradually switch the pill times to more convenient hours. I was told not to move the times up or back by more than 30 to 60 minutes per dose.
His appetite is extremely good; he's eating everything I give him and looking around for more. I forgot to bring back some turkey from my sister's for the cats tonight; fortunately, there's plenty for me to bring back tomorrow. He's a bit subdued, in terms of his behavior, but he's gradually acting more like himself. When I got out of the shower today, he was sitting on the bathmat waiting for me as he usually does.
I'm thankful that I'm getting to spend more time with him than I thought I would when I was sitting in the emergency clinic waiting room Monday evening. I'm also thankful that I have supportive online (and offline) friends.
I am NOT thankful, however, for dog owners who don't leash their dogs. When my sister and I were walking her two dogs tonight, a couple visiting one of her neighbors let their dog out of their car as we were walking by. Their dog--looked like a smallish rottweiler or doberman mix--ran right up to my sister's golden retriever mix, sniffed her, and then started attacking her while she rolled over on her back and exposed her belly to signal she wasn't a threat. As I'm screaming at the dog and trying to pull my sister's dog away, and my sister is smacking the dog with the leash attached to her little bichon frise (who wouldn't have stood a chance against the attacking dog), the attacking dog's owners are--what else--standing by their car yelling for their dog. The woman eventually came over to pull her dog off and apologized; it took another few minutes for her husband to wander over and actually take the dog away. Meanwhile, the golden mix is whimpering and afraid to get up. She turned out to have only one small bite that broke skin, so I guess attack dog was posturing more than anything.
But why the hell do people not put their dogs on leashes? I've seen people stand by their cars with leashes in their hands yelling fruitlessly at their dogs to "come here, stop that." You know, your dog wouldn't be able to go there and do that if you'd PUT THE DAMN LEASH ON. And if you can't be bothered to put the leash on, then you'd sure as hell better run over to your dog and haul it off of the dog it's attacking or scaring the crap out of instead of standing by your car or house yelling at it.